The Things No One Knows
by Noon30ish
Summary: Zombie!AU. Jack had a hard time comprehending what they were. They weren't human, but they weren't dead. One thing that he did know? They were both a lot alike, and that scared him. Now he has to learn to survive in a world where no one could possibly know his past, lest he become alone all over again. Rated T for intense blood and gore.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everybody! Instead of working on several plot lines that I should have finished, I came up with another idea! :D I should probably stop doing that... Anyway, if you guys like this idea, I think I'll make it into a longer story (with the other Guardians as well). I got the idea from a book series that I absolutely love called _The Forest of Hands and Teeth_, although this isn't in the same universe (thus not a crossover).**

**Alright, I'll stop rambling. Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

* * *

_The Things No One Knows_

* * *

The boy wiped the sweat from his brow and saw that blood had smeared onto his favorite sweatshirt. Cursing to himself, he braced his knees and stood, pulling his body into a long stretch. It wasn't a bite, so it didn't matter, but the sweatshirt was one of the few things he'd managed to salvage from his home. Well, what had been left of home, anyway. The fact that it was ruined so quickly alerted him to the upsetting and disturbing reality he had entered. Right when he had been about to forget the events of earlier that afternoon, it all flooded back to him again and he sat back down wearily. His breath caught and he reached for his Bo staff. If he didn't have that weapon, he doubted he'd have gotten away with his life. Maybe half of it, but what did that matter when it meant─

What did it mean, when your life was only partially lost? Did that mean you were them? Or was that lifelessness in its true form? Was there nothing left in those glazed eyes and jagged, torn bodies? These questions swirled in his head. He never dared to give them a name. They didn't deserve so much attention. Not to mention how dangerously _strange_ the word "zombie" felt on his tongue. Were they really like he'd seen in thousands of movies and video games? Undeniably, they had been, as he'd found out.

And yet, there was something about them that looked still more human than anyone could have anticipated. They seemed more like people. They _talked_ more like people. They weren't dumb, either. The things could walk right up to you and pass you, and you'd never know that they were... well, dead. Were they dead? The boy didn't have a better answer. At first, the news stations said it was just some mentally ill person that had escaped the hospital. Then it was a case of narcotic drugs. Then it was rabies. Then it was... well, that's when the stations cut out. It didn't really matter after that point. What did matter? There was a safe zone the next town to the South. It hadn't spread that far, not yet. No one would know him there. He could start over. Alone.

The boy figured the government had stepped in and sent the military to the outskirts of the town. He'd seen the large armored vehicles stroll through several side streets. He watched from the alleyways, but never dared to step out into sight. The police were probably given orders to shoot down anyone that looked infected. He probably looked like one of them now. He didn't feel like he was worth more than them either, for he had his family's blood on his hands, pants, shirt, and shoes. The latter two he had discarded in the hauntingly empty bedroom. If he had just stayed in that room, closed the door, and shut the blinds, he could have pretended that everything was normal. That the streets were screaming. They'd stop screaming soon. Whether by brutal ends or otherwise, they would have stopped. He would have been in silence, and he could have looked up at the skies and slowly counted his breaths until they clawed at his door. Until then, the silence would be comfortable. The blue, cloudless skies would have told him that nothing was wrong; that to them, everything was just running its course.

* * *

Tears wouldn't suffice. He cried out long enough after escaping the house, after saving his sister. He tried to tell her to calm down, to not go into the kitchen and see why their parents had been cut short of their agonizing screams. He tried to hold onto her hand, but she had already slipped out of his grasp and he froze and he didn't know if he could bring her back. Within an instant, he had shot up from behind the couch and grabbed the fireplace poker, lunging for the kitchen. The man that had entered their house stood over the girl, his eyes glazed and hungry, but still an intense brown─ probably the same brown they had been when he was fully human. The boy had frozen in place, watching as his little sister screeched at the sight of their parents. She knelt beside them, her white stockings stained red. He yelled at her to run, to get out of the way, but the man fell on top of her. In the blood-spattered scuffle, he couldn't tell what was going on.

He saw his sister's already-matted hair twisting around and catching on the thing's jacket, pulling her toward his face. The boy yelled, ripping his sister away from the man and throwing her back toward the living room. He turned toward the man and, without hesitation this time, plunged the fireplace poker into the man's throat. The metal caught on something hard, however, and his fingers shook as he struggled to get the makeshift weapon out of the flesh. The curve of the iron was latched around the man's trachea and hitched against ligament paired with the spine and it wouldn't budge. He tried to push down harder, but it couldn't go all the way through. Decapitation wasn't as easy as the video games made it seem. He twisted the metal, which earned him a gut-wrenching shriek from the man underneath him. The man's hands scratched at the boy's white shirt and caught in the button holes of his brown vest. The man was still strong─ he must have gotten sick recently─ and was pulling the boy's face toward his gaping jaws. Tipping the poker forward, the boy used the man's own force against him and shoved it through his throat and up into his brain. The thing stopped breathing. It stopped moaning. It stopped.

The boy had fallen back against the kitchen wall, dazed. The end of the fire poker was still in his grasp and his consciousness swooned in uncertainty. He stared at the bloody massacre beside him, the dark red liquid still pulsating into the cracks of the tile floor. A knot in his stomach threatened to surface and his eyes were bleary. His sister's voice called to him weakly. Turning his head toward the doorway, he saw her eyes were wide and fearful. The boy looked at his hand, still wrapped firmly on the metal poker. He let it go and immediately crashed into his sister's wavering arms. But instead of crying, he had pet her hair and asked her if she was safe, if she was okay. She had said she was fine. She, more than anyone else, would have known. He kept telling himself that.

But he knew he was wrong.

After locking the front door and jamming several kitchen chairs against the lock, along with anything that his sister passed to him, he hurried her up the stairs into their parents' room. He figured it would have been a comfort, or a closure, for them. He passed by the study room and paused. His old Bo staff lay in the corner, as did his other old gear from high school clubs. Peering up the stairs carefully, he saw that she was waiting for him anxiously. A word of reassurance and he disappeared into the study, grabbing anything that could be used for defense. The staff was the first thing his hands grasped, and the familiar dark oak fit in his palms. It slipped at first, the blood on his hands making the grip difficult. Wiping the blood on his pants, he took the staff again and grabbed its holster from the closet. Shouldering the old leather, he thought to grab the conditioner for it. He was still rummaging through the closet for the item when a familiar voice sounded from the hall.

"Mom?" The boy spun around, the ghost of a smile beginning to appear on his lips. But when he saw the figure in the doorway, his throat clenched and he fell to the floor. What stood there was not his mother. It looked like her. It spoke like her. But it wasn't her. This woman's neck was broken, bitten into on one side with brown blood caked to the still vibrant skin. Her feet moved carefully, tentatively, as if it was her first time walking. She looked at him with those familiar brown eyes─ they were his own─ and seemed to _recognize _him. She muttered something, and fresh blood spilled out of the gash. The boy stared hard, uncomprehending. "Mom?"

She just wanted help, she said. She needed to cook for dinner. She needed food. And what better food than what was right in front of her? But was she really speaking? Were the syllables coming out of her mouth coherent speech? The boy still wished they weren't. Then he wouldn't feel back about what he did. Unsheathing his staff, he knocked her back and aimed the staff above her head. He wouldn't miss. There was no way he could.

That is, if he had forced his body to move. He sneered down at the creature, his foot pressed to her abdomen. _This is your mother! What are you doing?! She raised you to live, love, and protect. Look at what you're doing to her!_ Was that his voice? Was that hers? Tears welled in his eyes as the indecision pounded in his skull. Then a sharp pain emanated from his ankle. Blinking away the fear, he saw that she had clawed his ankle and was bringing it toward her teeth, just like the strange man had done. Using her momentum, the boy kicked her face hard and it twisted sickeningly. In a blind moment of rage, he thrust the staff into her head. A crack was heard, but she still spoke. Well, whining and unearthly screeching was more like it. Tightening his hold on the staff, he brought it down upon her several more times. With each blow, she kicked and snapped her jaws in frustration. With each blow, she wouldn't pass. The boy just wanted her to die.

He wanted his mother to die.

In some surreal notion, he wanted to help her. To protect her. To do that, he had to kill her. Lifting his staff one last time, he pulled all of his weight into the blow and closed his eyes as he heard the squelch of skull and brain matter and other bodily liquids. His limbs were quivering and he wanted nothing more to do with this. It wasn't like the media said. It was harder and far more painful and he doubted that anyone could ever survive this without mentally dying. The blood had splayed all over his clothing and it started to crust in the places where it contacted his skin. His ankle swelled and it made his shoes difficult to walk in. He lay back, his staff still lodged into his mother's head, and proceeded to take off his shoes and socks with great care but shaky fingers. He heard his sister call from the second floor, to which he had replied in a deceptively steady voice. The boy had to be strong for her. There was no other way.

He wasn't aiming for survival. The two bodies lying in his house could attest to his decision. The world outside could as well have fallen away into oblivion and here he was wishing to keep his sister safe. Was "safe" even possible anymore? He was pondering these qualities of human security when he heard a shriek coming from upstairs. Had they learned to climb windows? He was about to rush up the stairs when he caught sight into the kitchen. The man's body was there, and the blood trail that led to his feet said that his mother was already gone, but his father's body wasn't there. His blood had mixed with his mothers, but a fork in the path led up the stairs. Shouting in desperation, the boy flew up the stairs two at a time and collided into his parents' bedroom.

The scene before him shattered his heart. A man that alluded to the shape of his father was chasing his sister around the room, and she was running out of space. A growl was heard. Whether or not it belonged to the boy or the father was up for debate. Without a thought, the boy jumped onto the man's back and hooked his arms around the neck. It bulged since the muscles were in erratic spasm, but he held on with all his might and yanked backwards. He heard his sister yell his name as the pair fell to the floor, with the boy crushed under his father. The air flew from his lungs and his head swam from hitting the wood. The man above him wriggled and squirmed, uttering eerily correct sounds. The bite wasn't in his throat, and so he must still be capable of human speech. But how long did the brain last after infection? Was it an infection? The thoughts were in the back of the boy's mind, seeing as other matters were more pressing.

The seconds passed by like hours. The boy's arms were tiring and he wondered if there was anything else he could use that would be more efficient. His parents had never owned any guns, and the only knives were down in the kitchen. He couldn't just run down there himself and leave this estranged man with his sister. But he couldn't let her go downstairs, either. She would see what he'd done to their mother. She'd call him a monster and the irony would have been lost on them. Was he not exactly like them now? Urging himself to believe that he was above all and foremost human, he pulled upward and inward with newfound strength. The man's choking sounds became more strained, and the kicking dulled. It wasn't quick, but it wasn't bloody. That was the best that he could hope for under the witness of his innocent sibling. When everything stilled, the boy asked his sister if the man was done. She blinked and nodded warily, keeping herself behind the nightstand beside the bedpost.

With that, the boy rolled the man off of him and stood wearily. Steeling his nerves, he took a towel from the closet opposite the window─ and his sister─ and covered his father's body. He couldn't bring himself to close the man's unseeing, eyes. It would make him sicker than he already was. But he wasn't about to appear that way in front of her. He was her protector. At least, that's what he thought until he saw the marks on her arm.

He walked over to her slowly, as if trying not to scare her, when it was really he who was scared. He asked her to step closer and he held out his arms. She shook her head vigorously. There was no way she would endanger him as well.

"It's okay," he said. "You're going to be alright. We're gonna have a little fun instead."

She negated him indignantly. Her voice had cracked and it made his heart lurch. But he couldn't let her see the pain.

"I promise, _I promise,_ you're going to be fine," he reassured her. The boy struggled to keep his fingers from twitching. He couldn't lose his sister, too. _Anyone_, but not her. Please, _not her_. "You have to believe in me."

His sister parted her lips and her eyes softened. Nodding, she stepped out from behind the nightstand. She cupped her elbows and shivered. Her injured arm didn't even look that bad. It didn't look like a mortal wound. Perhaps he could fix it. Perhaps it was just a scratch. She wasn't dead and never would be if he had anything to do with fate.

"Do you wanna play a game?" He asked her.

She nodded again, slower this time.

They were going to play doctor. She was going to be the doctor first, he had told her so. She started to smile and took her role. When her turn was done, it was his. The boy said he would have to bandage her up, and escorted her to the bathroom. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, he talked to his sister calmly, trying to keep her mind off of the present state of things. The screams outside had died down considerably, but the occasional noise did pierce their eardrums from farther down the street. It seemed to be over quickly. Help would be there soon, he told her, and then they could leave and be safe. But as he was dressing the wound, he glanced at her expression. She nodded grimly. Neither of them mentioned their parents.

When he finished wrapping her arm, they went back into their parents' room and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. They lay like this for an indistinguishable amount of time, watching the sky outside. The boy had his arm around her and she lay in his lap, absentmindedly sucking her thumb. He stopped trying to swat her thumb away. She could do as she liked while she still could. He was at a loss and he didn't want to make the decision so soon. He wasn't able to do this yet. Nothing had ever prepared him for this. And that was the most devastating predicament about the end of the world. Children could no longer be children, and he despised that he'd have to live in that kind of world while his sister suffered, never accomplishing her childhood. How could he protect her now? The boy let the question hang in the air inside his mind as his rested his chin on the top of her head. His sister's rhythmic breathing told him she had fallen asleep. Looking down, he patted her hair and kissed her forehead, which was beginning to heat up.

He lay with her like that into the late afternoon as the sunset began to spread its colors over the town, ignorant of the fear and turmoil and chaos its beams entertained. He wondered what he could do to keep her innocence, her humanity, intact. Realization peaked, crawling through his skin in slow agony. Clearing his throat, his next breath told him tears had fallen down his cheeks. Bringing his free arm up to his face, he was vaguely aware that more tears were cascading in the silence that surrounded them. He couldn't stop them if wanted to; they were too much for him. Careful not to let any fall upon his sister's head, he slid out from under her and pulled the spare blanket from the end of the bed up and over her body. She curled up unconsciously and sighed. It broke him to see her look wholly human.

It was that break that made his decision. And before he could turn back on it, he walked downstairs and retrieved a knife from the cutting block. He walked back to the study and, without hesitation, ripped his staff from the decomposing mass. He cleaned off the end and holstered it again. It was a comforting, nostalgic weight that made him believe he was fourteen again and in his gym, practicing his martial arts. But this time, there was no tournament at the end, there was no applause, and there was no forfeiting from this. He walked up to the room again with tears and blood mixing down his chin. He could protect her. It would be at his expense, but he could save her.

The boy changed his clothes after that. He discarded the now-red shirt, soaked and heavy as it was. The vest was of no use, either. His pants, however, were the last clean pair he had─ doing laundry was a boring chore─ and he would have to make do with their patchy appearance. His shoes were downstairs; he didn't bother. His staff, still within its holster, lay against his bedroom door. Without thought, he donned his favorite blue sweatshirt and fell onto his bed. He lay where he fell, staring out the window. The sun was gone, and the brightest moon had taken its place. The fullness seemed to pulsate and speak to him, but he ignored its caress. Looking at the sky, everything seemed normal. Nothing could be wrong when you looked at the sky.

But everything was wrong. He reached for his pillow, buried his face in its thread, and screamed.

It was in the early morning hours when he heard their screams. The front door was directly below his room, and the tortured sleep he'd endured lent itself to a state of incessant alertness. The boy stood up and grabbed his staff, swinging the holster across his back. He grabbed a pocket knife from his nightstand drawer and prayed it would be enough. But what good was praying? He shoved it in his pocket and walked out of the room. He paused at the door to his parents' room. It was shut, as it should be. Clearing his throat, he walked down the stairs and stopped again at the study room. It was also shut. Next was the front door. It was shut, but it creaked and groaned with the unnatural weight set against it. The chairs were bending and a heartbeat away from splintering. He stared with a blank expression. It was time to leave.

After a few minutes of gathering some spare things, he let out his last breath in what had been his home for seventeen years. Then, as he left out the back door, he struck the match.

* * *

Presently, the boy stood again. It was dangerous to stay in the alley. Holstering his staff, he stepped out onto the side street opposite from where he'd seen the army vehicle. He'd already seen two people─ indeed, they were fully people─ get shot down by one of them. There was no chance they'd be taking survivors. And he understood why. They seemed almost normal─ but that was early on. Perhaps their bodies would degrade into the glorified cinematic _zombies_ he'd known so much more about. But he didn't hope nor dwell on the thought for long. He wasn't one to have human thoughts anymore. It was ironic, really. He didn't feel the need for anything human, and yet he was still completely alive. Wrinkling his nose at the thought, he made his way toward the edge of the suburbs. Hopefully there would be a space where he could bypass everything and make his way toward the next town.

But his hopes were dashed again. The houses, painted mockingly bright, only gave way to a fence that towered above the shingled roofs. At the top were barbed wires, shining in the early morning light. Scrutinizing the scene in front of him, he noticed a gap in the gruesome wires. From what the boy could see, it seemed to be vacated. They must have seen the fire coming from the other side of the town and gone to check it out. A stupid decision, really. He'd already taken out a good number of them with the blast. He felt more at ease, although his mind was far from being that case.

The boy bit his lip and readied himself to sprint. He could scale the fence if he did it just right. The wind carried itself toward him, as if willing him onward. Dashing forward, he wished there were a better way to carry his staff, because it was bouncing off the back of his legs and making them really sore, really fast. Ignoring it like he was ignoring everything else, the boy jumped and started climbing the fence. He had reached the top and paused, glancing around warily. Until he got past the fence and into the forest, he was in the open, vulnerable. Quickly taking off the staff's holster, he launched it over toward freedom and watched as it bounced on its side and rolled down the slight decline. Sure that he was ready, the boy threw his leg over the wires and straddled the top of the fence without the barbs. Several angry voices broke his concentration and he latched onto the top for dear life, wondering if he would fall.

"Get down from there!" The boy saw two burly men running his way, rifles aimed at him. He cleared his throat but didn't move.

"What's your name, boy?" The first one called.

"He's probably turned," the second man called, smacking the first man in the back of the head, "there's no point in asking him!"

"I'm not one of them!" The boy yelled. If there was any sense of doubt wading between those two men, he would seize the opportunity. He sat up on the fence slowly and showed his hands─ but relieved and upset that he had tossed his staff on the other side. "I'm not infected!"

"Do you have any bite marks? There's a lot of blood on you," the second man walked closer, never taking his rifle off of the boy's face.

"No, none of the blood's mine, I swear," the boy tried to reason with them. "I had to kill a lot of them to get here. I couldn't find help anywhere!" He wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish, other than prove the fact that he could speak sentences far beyond the ability of... well, those _things_.

The men whispered to each other, glancing furtively back at the boy every few seconds. There were nods, there were shakes, yes's and no's, and it seemed like they were getting nowhere. The boy debated hopping off the fence and making a run for it, but the gleam of their rifles was unnerving as they were trained on him intensely. It wouldn't matter if he died, but he didn't want to, not yet. He had to do something for his sister. Something she would never be able to do herself. Clearing his throat, he tried to speak again.

"My name's Jackson! You guys will help me, right? I'm human, like you are!" It was all he could cling to, but he didn't believe it to be true. He killed his family, turned, infected, or otherwise. Four people. Four different sources of blood on his body. He didn't think he would ever be clean again, but he had to try. "I don't have any bites, some scratches, sure, but no bites!"

That seemed to get their attention. Nodding in unison, Jackson heard the rifles click and his stomach nearly heaved. "We are under orders!" _As if that's an excuse,_ the boy thought bitterly. He closed his eyes and waited for the blow. He waited for the shock, the fall, and the blackness. He waited to die, knowing he was utterly stuck.

Then something happened. One of the men screamed and a shot went off, but in the wrong direction. Jackson's eyes flew wide open and witnessed something he thought he wouldn't see again. The first man was hopping on one foot, yelling obscenities and whipping his gun into the grass. It was after a moment that the boy could see a hand─ bloody, but not broken─ attached firmly to the man's leg. The second guy was freaked and terrified despite whatever training he should have had. His gun wavered between his companion and the boy on the fence. Jackson froze, waiting to see what the second man would choose. Ultimately, the man turned to the first one and said something that was too quiet for the boy to hear over the screeches and groans of the... thing. It must have been a prayer or last words of some sort, because the man aimed his rifle at his friend and shot. The first man must have been bitten in the skirmish. A second shot rang out, and Jackson didn't want to know what else would happen. Several more shots occurred, however, and that made him check before swinging his other leg into a chain link on the opposite side. The second man was running away now, and he saw why.

There were upwards of twenty, maybe more, infected people sprinting after the military man. He stood his ground and kept shooting. Jackson yelled at him to come and climb the fence. He couldn't stand to see anymore death. But the man didn't answer, and the boy watched as he was overrun. Tears forming in his eyes once again, he forced his body to clamber down the fence. Hitting the ground hard, he rolled sideways as a pain in his ankle throbbed. Despite his best efforts to suppress his agony, one of the reanimated bodies turned its attention toward the fence. Fear gripped his heart and he staggered backwards, trying to reach for his staff. It was still a few feet behind him, down the small hill. Jackson waited a moment, wondering if they would be strong enough to tear down the fence if they wanted to. The creature clawed the fence, grasping it haphazardly. It looked at him with vacant blue eyes and gaping jaws. His skin was darker, still filled with some sort of life. He wasn't completely gone, not yet, but he was human enough that Jackson wouldn't even try to kill him.

The boy stood slowly, keeping his eyes on the thing. Warily, Jackson backed away and crouched, grabbing his staff without breaking eye contact. The thing tilted its head, eyebrows arched in question. It opened its mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Slapping the fence with one hand, the creature shook his head and moaned low in warning. Jackson's heart raced. Could this thing _understand_ him? Was it trying to say something? Whatever it wanted to tell him, Jackson didn't want to hear it. He'd had enough of this nightmare. Shouldering his staff's holster, the boy turned away and walked into the forest, an air of finality heavy in his lungs.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you guys think?**

**If you like the style, you should check out my other works, if you haven't already! They aren't nearly as gruesome as this one, so don't worry about that. You can go to my profile for my other stories. They are mainly adventure-based, but there is also humor and _perhaps_ some romance. ;)**

**Have a wonderful day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I have to apologize for the announcement chapter getting everyone's hopes up! I didn't honestlyknow you guys would be so eager to read the next chapter! I wrote it up as fast as I could so as not to disappoint. You guys are truly amazing! :)**

**I will also have to apologize in advance for the way I'm about to portray Bunny (Aster in this story). I debated for a long time about how to include him in this storyline realistically. It did result in some changes, and although it won't make much sense, I'll keep the accent in the writing (just so I don't make him OOC accidentally). I'm sorry if anyone will find it offensive!**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

* * *

_New Eyes_

* * *

They never believed him. Half the time, they didn't even see him. He was used to it, but that didn't mean that he liked it.

Jack sat up in his tree, contemplating his next moves in the early sunlight. It would be winter soon. The third winter he'd spent Outside, Beyond the Walls. No one lived Beyond the Walls and stayed alive for long, or returned to Burgess to tell the tale. A giant wall was built around the city during the early months of the outbreak. It had been mostly completed when a smaller horde came through and wiped out half the population. Jack tried to warn them, but he kept getting shot at or hit with a bat, a crowbar, and even several shoes. They thought he was one of the dead. Except that they weren't really dead, not at first. It was just easier to say that they were dead. It was easier to kill them thinking that they had already been killed by lawless forces of nature. Of course, some people's defenses broke down; the sounds of their loved ones became siren songs by which they were entranced. But these creatures were not the fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters, nor were they the friends, the relatives, and the neighbors that one once had.

Some of the fanatics started calling them the Unconsecrated. The followers of the Church took over the wall after it had been built by the long-disintegrated military. They claimed the wall as the city's protector, a God-given safe haven. Jack often heard them preach from the ramparts, begging God to lift the demonic spirits from the sinful creatures. They didn't even stop their ramblings when the infected actually started _dying_. It was the closest word Jack could name that described what happened. The things began to deteriorate. Their bones were frail from malnourishment and their skin pale and burned from the harsh sunlight the following summer. Their hair fell out, their eyes melted. Vocal chords were nearly nonexistent, but one could still hear the faint tongue of English bellowing from their rancid mouths. The true hellishness was surreal and far removed from the various realities in which people forced themselves to believe it was just a plague. It would be like it was during the Black Plague, all those centuries ago. It would blow over. It was humanity's fault for overpopulating the earth and running the resources nearly dry. Jack had heard it all from the ramparts.

Jack had always been a little gullible, but after ramming his staff into his mother's skull and choking his father and slashing his sister's throat, he didn't believe in much of anything. The emptiness in his heart echoed the emptiness inside the Unconsecrated. He was full of holes, as were they. He killed, they killed, all for necessity. A monster was a fitting description for both. Three years of solitude never abated these thoughts of his. One would think they would get used to the loneliness after awhile, but for Jack it renewed itself in bouts and fits of rage and an unnerving sense of unfairness. There were times he could almost forget, but it was never enough, and never was it complete.

Practicing with his staff was one of the few times Jack could truly be a nonentity with zero thoughts. It was an extension of his being that swung and glided through the air as gracefully as the wind. The aged wood was smooth in his palms. It slid from his grasp when he wanted it to and it stayed exactly where he wanted it to stay. His upward swings would always land precisely into the dirt he had marked out. With time, Jack learned to keep it silent as well. It was moderately difficult, considering the more powerful moves elicited an effortful grunt. His anger would bubble over at first, but controlling that was still in progress. If he ever became more upset than usual, the baseline for which was already high, he would walk over to one of the forgotten towns and let them come after him. Occasionally, Jack attached sharper objects to the ends of his staff to make the body count rise. But most of the time, Jack preferred to take his time to kill the things that tore his life apart. Killing was no stranger to him now. He would make sure they went down and stayed down, and clear the area before it became overwhelming. Perhaps, if anyone was living and witnessing, they would see that he was human and they would help him and he would have someone to fight for that was still alive.

Not that fighting for his sister wasn't meaningful. It was the one thing keeping him alive most days. There were some days where he stayed in the treetops and counted the leaves rustling in the breeze, but he made those days few and far in between. Jack knew that his sister wanted to get out of their house and do all of the extracurricular activities that Jack he had done, that she wanted to be talented, and that she wanted to travel. Jack had been able to do many of those─ mostly on a whim─ because his grades suffered even when he tried. His parents, thankfully, were more understanding than most, and allowed him to be homeschooled. The school system still allowed him to be on the various teams he had been, he just didn't go to classes. That had been perfectly fine for Jack, since the kids his age were less than interesting. He was perfectly content to visit the world and take judo and other staff classes, as well as various fighting techniques originating from wherever he had been visiting. Although it seemed like a lot, Jack mostly stayed at home and cared for his sister. Their parents worked a lot to keep all of their dreams afloat, and Jack had never stopped being grateful. He even took shifts at the local stores and diners and secretly paid his parents back during the summer. They would never accept his money up front, so Jack always hid discreet amounts in their clothing or dressers, and smaller amounts into their bank account every few weeks.

And even now, although the house was gone, Jack remembered the last bit of money that he had stashed in his mother's jewelry box that unsuspecting morning. He remembered the money that he'd put in his father's pants for that morning the night before. He wasn't sure if either of them had found the money, but now he knew they never would. They would never know that their son tried to take it all back. He'd even saved money for his sister, but she would never get to use it. And when his world collapsed, he left all of that money to burn with the rest of the things that would have tied him to that place indefinitely. If Jack hadn't done what he'd done, he knew he would have stayed and wallowed in self-pity. But he couldn't let the pain become him. Jack had always been the boy with a permanent smile. Though he often found it hard to smile genuinely in these past three years, he was trying his best.

Just below him, several Unconsecrated shambled around the tree trunk (he'd begun to use the Church's words because they were the only familiar speech he'd heard in so long). Every time they had been able to climb more than a few feet, Jack would poke at their weakened fingers and watch as they tumbled over each other. It was a grim sort of entertainment, but he took what he could get. Standing up on the branch, crouching, Jack holstered his staff and began making his way over to the next tree. This one was an apple tree, a little lower than the one that he was currently on, but it still had some fruit left. If Jack could stash a few apples in his small leather pack, he'd be fed for a few days. He didn't eat much, but keeping up his strength was vital. He still had some nuts in a tin that he'd taken from one of the many convenient stores that were practically empty now. People had started taking even the more undesirable items once the other stuff was confiscated and eaten greedily. But right now, he needed apples. It would be a pleasant start to his day.

Jack was nearing the thinner end of the branch and he was holding onto a thicker branch above his head. Experience told him to _always_ hold onto something, even if you think your feet are stable. His balance had become excellently conditioned, but so had his caution. Jack peered through the thinning, dying leaves to decipher an appropriate landing area in the next tree. Apple trees were notoriously dense and spiky with their branches that reached abruptly upward rather than a gradual rise outward. His feet would more than likely be scraped, they might even bleed, but that was the worst case scenario. Jack was normally careful not to injure himself, lest the numerous dead flock here from miles around just to be disappointed that their meal was in a tree. Although if any more than thirty of the creatures came around, Jack would be sure to hightail it out of there. But right now, the three rather despicable samples below him probably wouldn't be a problem even if he did fall. The only thing that would make him more concerned would be if his staff broke. He'd never been that careless, but Jack still feared his only hold on survival would be snapped in two in the blink of an eye.

_One, two, ... three!_ Jack let his feet drop off the branch, which cracked and landed on one of their heads, and heaved his weight like a pendulum. All he had to do was swing two times, enough to get the momentum, and let go. Then he'd grab the branch that his eyes never left. _One,_ his thumbs pressed into the bottom of the branch and his body swung forward. _Two,_ his momentum drove him nearly horizontal. He could practically taste the apples, and his mouth watered. _Thr_─

The limb he'd been holding onto dipped lower at the end of his swing, and before Jack could adjust and correct it, his fingers slipped from the smooth wood. The apple tree came too close too fast, and his face couldn't be saved from the claw-like branches that scratched his cheeks. Jack let out a surprised yell as he yanked his face backward, beginning to fall onto his back. Trying not to panic, but fearing for his staff, Jack twisted his body around so that his arms and legs could brace for the ground. But as he was about to feel the grass and the twigs and dead leaves and the compacted earth, a force knocked into his stomach and he was sent spinning on the grass and down a small hill. He would have kept spiraling had his back not been slammed against an oak tree, his limbs still wanting to continue falling and flailing behind him.

Immediately, without checking his own body, his arms went to his holster that had swung around to his midsection. Taking out his staff, Jack ran his hands over the wood, inspecting it for damage. Finding that it was still in good condition, the boy sighed in relief and used it to push himself up off the ground and toward the top of the hill. Almost instantly, Jack felt a stab of pain coming from his ankle. He ignored it, however, because something occurred to him. For some reason, and Jack was sure his face was bleeding at least minutely, the dead weren't coming toward him. Whatever hit him, it clearly didn't want him around the area. But instead of running away, Jack's curiosity got the better of him. The flesh-eating creatures wouldn't simply kick choice meat aside. He was convinced something else had happened. Even before reaching the top of the hill, Jack knew someone else─ someone human─ was there. He heard battle sounds, the twang of a bowstring and the metallic sling of metal being released from its sheath. Jack scrambled up the hill eagerly, hoping he wasn't too late for the fight. His ankle screamed, but he didn't pay attention.

As soon as he was able to see past an overturned and rotting log, Jack's eyes widened. There was a man with long, aging gray hair plaited down his back knocking a wooden arrow onto a rather long, straight bow. The bow was almost as tall as him, and this man looked to be far over six feet tall. His arms were covered in blue tattoos that snaked down from his shoulders. Similar tattoos were on his shoulder blades, all of which seemed feathery but threatening. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but with muscles like that, Jack doubted a shirt would fit the guy. He was wearing a quiver, filled with arrows, around his right shoulder and under his left. His shorts were a dark tanned brown, more natural than Jack's own brown denim, which appeared faded and torn and frayed in more than one area. On his feet, the man wore moccasins, which may have explained why Jack hadn't heard the man approaching. Jack prided himself on his hearing, but clearly this guy was better. That made Jack feel much more competitive, and the thrill of rivalry burned in his veins. He hadn't felt this way in a long time.

But then something shimmering fluttered by him faster than he could see. Hearing a rising cry, Jack looked to his right a little too late to see a woman jumping over the log, twin daggers raised. He ducked and rolled out of the way in time to see that she had plunged her weapons into a shambling corpse that had been behind him. Jack cursed himself for not paying more attention. Looking at the girl completely now, Jack noted that she was wearing a skirt that was longer in the back than the front, which seemed rather inefficient and unnecessary. The skirt itself was a variety of colors without borders, all fading into the next color seamlessly. It looked blue for the most part, but there was also purple, green, and possibly a little yellow toward her small waist. Underneath it, the girl was wearing golden-brown leggings that were slightly lighter than her tanned skin. On her feet were nondescript but tight brown boots. For a shirt, this woman was generously donned with a loose light green shirt that tied around her neck and her stomach, but her back was bare except for the yellow sash that wrapped around one shoulder and around her waist. The sash was wide enough to cover her stomach, but it was thin and could be seen through. Her straight black hair was free-flowing and reached beyond the middle of her back. Seriously, how was she able to fight so quickly dressed like that? Then Jack noticed the holsters strapped to her inner thighs and watched as she wiped her blades of the thing's blood and sheathed them on her hips, deciding that it would be best not to startle her.

The woman turned to him suddenly, eyes alert and wary of him. Jack set his staff down in front of him and put his hands up, showing her that they were empty. Jack caught sight of her eyes and lost all of the breath he had been holding. Her eyes were a bright and unearthly violet. Jack had only heard about this happening in his biology textbook (one of the only classes he had taken at the school rather than at home), in which albinism wasn't completely written into one's genes. But this girl was nowhere near being described as an albino. Nonetheless, she was breathtakingly beautiful with wispy bangs pushed away from her face from the excitement. Her ears sported long, dangling golden feather earrings that touched her shoulders. She didn't even look as old as Jack, and he was mesmerized. The girl didn't speak as she crouched, animalistic in fashion, and made her way closer to him. Their faces were barely a foot apart from each other, and her eyes only grew wider. Jack could feel his eyes doing the same. His were a dark brown, the same as his hair, and he hoped that she could see the very human life that flickered in them.

"T'iana!" a gruff voice pounded above them. Jack whipped his head startlingly, realizing that the man from before was now leaning on the log beside them on one leg. He was wiping his bow with extra cloth that hung from the front of his shorts, the blood coming off in blotches. His eyes were a vibrant light green that glared at him suspiciously. Where did these people come from? Their eyes were beautiful and intense, far more so than the boring brown eyes he'd been used to seeing for so many years at home. Everyone in his family had had brown eyes. Jack was saddened by the thought. "Lemme take care o' this one, you got ta last two."

Jack's heartbeat raced instantly. He knew it. They thought he was infected. If he didn't run away or fight his way out, his life was as good as gone. Jack might not have objected earlier, but he wanted to know more about these magnificent individuals. A new hope began to spark in his mind, and the word became a little brighter then.

The girl stood up now, her feet having been right in front of Jack's, and she stood in between them. Her arms were raised defensively, spread out from her sides. "You can't kill him, Aster! I think he's still human!" Her voice was excited and somewhat childish, but it was hopeful and Jack couldn't help but smile a little. The pull on his lips felt strange, and he liked it. "See? He won't bite me! We have to take him back to camp and get him situated with the others. Maybe we can even find his family and save them, too!" Jack's smile quickly disappeared.

"Or," the man pointed at him accusingly, "he's a Breakah an' we oughta kill 'im before he infects more of 'em! Ya can't go around tryin' ta save e'ry little thing ya see, mate." The man unsheathed a large knife that Jack hadn't seen on him before and leaned toward him, grabbing his blue sweatshirt and pulling him close. His grasp was tight and trained and the knife was positioned at Jack's neck. He pressed on the pale skin lightly. The girl threatened to scream and he paused. Jack could feel every fiber in his body screaming at him to flee, but he couldn't find the strength.

But Jack had to set something straight. He had to try. "Whoa, whoa, hey! I'm not a breaker," Jack held his hands up. He didn't even know what a breaker was, but he knew he wasn't one. Not remotely sure that they would take the excuse─ as many didn't─ Jack prayed they would at least listen. He hadn't spoken, apart from his fighting noises, in over a year. That was the last time he'd been to one of the villages. He'd tried to ask for food and a place to stay, but his throat was parched it came out coarse and, quite frankly, frightening. They'd chased him out of their area and Jack decided to not speak again. Right now, his voice wasn't much better, so he tried to clear his throat and cough before continuing. "I'm not infected." _Yeah, that was convincing, Jack._

The girl squealed softly. "He's human, Aster! Please, we have to take him to see the others. He looks old enough, so he might be able to help us. The moon knows we need another helping hand around the camp, especially with the little ones. Excuse me," she spun around and hunched over her knees, peering at the boy with the greatest of curiosities, "what's your name?"

"M─my name?" He thought about giving his full name, but decided against it. There was still a chance that this Aster guy was going to kill him anyway. He wasn't sure why she was asking for his name. Her words were quick and hard to understand, with the hint of an accent playing on her lips. "It's Jack," he said at last, his voice suddenly much clearer than it had been in a long time.

The girl immediately shot out her hands and hoisted him to stand with her. Her arms were little, but she had a surprising amount of strength. "Hello, Jack! I'm Toothiana, but Aster never seems to be bothered with the whole thing. Oh! This is Aster," she swung her body beside Jack's, her arm entwined with his, "he's probably got a longer name, too, be he won't tell any of us. Honestly, he's a little frustrating sometimes, but he's a big bunny rabbit when you get to know him. Quick as one, too!"

"T'iana..." Aster lowered his eyelids with a hint of annoyance. He clearly didn't care for introductions, but he appeared to be thinking something through at the moment. He scratched the back of his head and shook it in defeat. "Awlright, he can come. If he doesn' attack us on the way back, I'll consider 'im."

The girl put her other hand on her hip, shifting her weight closer to Jack. He hadn't been this close to a living being in three years, and it was a lot for him to register all at once. "Aster, you know that's Sgt. North's decision. Please, can we just give him a chance? I'm sure Jack will be fit for the job in a few months with proper care."

"He's not a sergeant anymore," the man grumbled, "but fine. An' Jack 'ere's not allowed in my scouting parties. Not until 'e's ready."

"I know I seem like one, but could you not talk about me like I'm an animal?" Jack shrugged his arm away from Toothiana's grasp and backed away from both of them. Despite not talking in so long, he couldn't help but let the sarcasm leech into his words. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the girl's cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. Jack wasn't sure what that meant, but he wasn't going to mention it. Then she faced him once again and grabbed his face in her hands. Shocked by the sudden touch, Jack instinctively tried to yank away. She held him there, however, and her purple eyes darted around his face. She even pushed open his lips and check inside his mouth. Jack wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish, but it was a little more than strange.

"Well, the teeth don't look to be too damaged..." Toothiana gasped. "You're the one that fell from the tree! Aster, you could have injured him in that fall! I told you not to climb the trees! We better get back to camp, fast, before more of them start coming around here. Sanderson will be able to get him cleaned up. I'm sorry I kicked you, by the way. I thought you were one of them... sorry."

It took Jack a second to realize what the girl was chattering about, and then he realized that his gut was probably bruised. The dull throb reached his consciousness and he was becoming increasingly dizzy. This tiny girl could hit that hard? Jack was amazed, but he'd be more amazed if he could focus on something beside the headache he was beginning to acquire. Jack shook his head. "That's fine. If it weren't for that kick, my staff might have broken."

"I wondered what that was!" Tooth reached behind Jack and he could feel her grabbing the staff and trying to take it out of the holster. Jack shrank away instinctively, putting his own hand toward his staff. Aster jumped toward him and loomed over him, making sure that the threat was well-received. Jack put his hand down and bowed his head.

"Sorry about that," Jack fumbled through an apology, "I don't normally let people near it. It's... been awhile since I've seen people."

The girl crooned sadly until she heard the snap of a twig somewhere in the distance. "Well, we better get going! Come on!" She jumped up and glided over the log and practically flew through the forest haphazardly. Her high spirits were infectious, and Jack caught himself smiling again. His mouth was beginning to hurt pathetically. The girl ran in between the trees and around downed branches faster than Jack could register the sound of her footsteps, which were all but imperceptible. Aster was already walking ahead, leaving Jack behind. The man rolled his shoulders apathetically and he hopped over the log: a bigger jump than Jack thought was possible. Aster's bow was slung over his shoulder in a similar fashion as his quiver, with the wood resting against the leather that held the arrows close to him. Jack was about to follow when his left ankle snapped from under him and he tumbled down the hill again. Before he reached the bottom, his head smacked against something hard and the world around him grew dark.

* * *

The moment Jack awoke, his groggy mind wasted no time in recognizing that his staff was not situated on his back. In fact, his back was against something incredibly soft. But that didn't matter just then. Jack's hands searched the surrounding area without his eyes being visually aware of where he was. There was a table of sorts beside him, and the familiar brown holster and backpack were underneath his staff. Instinctively, Jack grabbed his staff and hugged it close to his body. He couldn't get to sleep most nights unless he had it within arm's reach or actually in his arms. It was a security measure he integrated early on during his three lonely years. There was no one to trust but his own instincts.

Except now.

Aster and Toothiana─ well, mostly Toothiana─ seemed genuinely concerned about him, and they were going to take him with them to their... their "camp." Jack suddenly wasn't sure if that sounded as settling now as it did at first. They could have been cannibals, for all he knew. But would that have made them much different from those things out there? Jack had assumed that they probably were different, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason why. The decision to kill in order to eat had never been a debate in human history (vegetarians and vegans aside), but it always stopped before the discussion of eating humans was breached. But as Jack thought about it, cannibalism seemed saner compared to becoming one of those things. Was it because one could still be themselves if they chose to eat their brethren? Was the possibility of losing one's consciousness truly more horrific than killing and _eating_ another of one's kind? The thoughts were too much for Jack presently, so he groaned and rolled over.

In the process, his staff knocked something to the floor. Several thuds hit soft earth, and Jack's eyes opened. He tried to sit up, but was brought back onto his back from the uncomfortable feeling in his abdomen. Looking down, he saw that his shirt was gone, his bare, pale skin glowing in the near perfect darkness. His midsection was covered in one large mass of purples and blues and Jack groaned. That girl had a _seriously_ strong kick. Glancing down the rest of his body, Jack realized that his left leg was constricted for movement. Pulling off a blanket that had covered his bottom half, he was relieved to see that he still had his pants on. That made the situation a little less weird. But as he got to his foot, Jack saw that there was some sort of cloth wrapped around a small wooden board stuck to his ankle. It looked like a botched splint, but it appeared like it would work just fine.

Jack was furious, however. Not at anyone, really, but at his own ineptitude. He wasn't certain that he could have avoided the injury, but he wanted to blame something so badly. With his ankle in this condition, Jack was scared he'd never make it out alive. Any injury in this changed world inevitably spelled disaster. With the unnerving panic rising, Jack wondered what happened to Toothiana and Aster. Even if they were wary, Jack thought they were better than being alone.

Anything was better than being alone.

Jack rolled over again, uncomfortable with the situation and position he was in. He was facing the table again, and saw that his backpack had fallen open. Remembering that he had woken up because of some strange thud, he slowly turned his body. Jack's chest hung over the side of the bed and he had a hard time keeping his head upright. Focusing his eyes in the dark, he made out several small round objects, reddish according to whatever light could reach this room. Jack let a hand out and grabbed one. He brought it up to his face and sniffed.

It was an apple.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter, you'll meet my versions of North and Sandy! I promise the updating will come more regularly.**

**But for right now, I need to get back to studying!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thank you to all of the favs/follows/reviews so far! I really appreciate them and they're very helpful. As for people wondering why I am apologizing for Aster's portrayal, you'll learn in this chapter. I guess it couldn't have been mentioned since Jack was knocked out for the majority of the trip back to camp. But you'll see for yourself. ;) **

**Also! I have three drawings of the characters from this fic completed! I'll do a group drawing of all of them when they are all done, but I thought I'd show you the ones I've done so far. The three that you'll see if you go to my profile will be Tooth, Baby Tooth, and North (who looks pretty badass if you ask me).**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

* * *

_Conflict of Interest_

* * *

Jack wiped the apple's juices from his face and smacked his lips. Tossing the core into the opposite corner of the room, he wondered what time it was. How long had he been out for? Clearly, he was safe. Well, safer. There never had been such a thing as "safe" since the Outbreak. To be honest, Jack didn't think there was ever anything as "safer," either. Any prefix, suffix, adverb, or other English grammatical structures surrounding the word "safe" would never make it true. Not for this world. Even if Toothiana and Aster remotely cared about his well-being, Jack had to rely on his own instincts. The brief joy at being rescued by living, breathing humans had quickly been replaced with morbid cynicism shortly after Jack bit into the apple. He'd been reminded of it because who else would have known that's what he'd been trying to reach for? Of course, from the sound of it, Toothiana was oblivious and Aster was focused on other things. For all Jack knew, they pitied him and took him away so that they could leave again.

Jack's stomach rumbled and he decided to eat the next apple still on the ground. The thud that he had heard turned out to be a metallic one. He'd learned so because when his fingers tried to grasp the apple, they were greeted with the smooth chill of metal flooring. It hadn't occurred to Jack in that moment to think about where he would be that would implement metal floors, but as he reached for the second apple he paused. His ankle was throbbing against the tight splint, but he didn't dare take it off. Whatever he could do to make it heal faster would be done. If that meant resting in a dark, unknown room, so be it. At least he had his staff and his bag. But these floors were unlike any he'd seen before, except in science fiction movies. A momentary thought passed around the idea that Jack was in a space ship presently, but it dissipated with a chuckle. The second apple was still on the floor where it fell and rolled, a bruise beginning to show. Jack picked it up and slowly raised his upper body to sit up straight. A jolt of pain was felt, but the effects were lessening. Jack grimaced as he ignored the pain and sat the rest of the way up, resting on an equally metallic headboard. A few ribs must be bruised, if not broken. Jack figured that the distinguishing factors would be different, but failed to remember which complied with which.

One bite of the apple later and there was a knock coming from Jack's right. He nearly spat out the apple. It was obviously someone who was human, since an Unconsecrated would try to break it down. Jack wasn't a huge fan of that term for the things, but it was clearly better than "the things." Was it Toothiana? Aster? Jack set the apple on the desk and tried to look more respectable, tousling his dirty brown hair. It was then that he noticed his head was wrapped in gauze. A slight ache appeared from the fogs of his unconscious. _Great, a concussion, too?_ "Come in?"

The door slammed open and beams of light blinded the poor Jack. His arm instantly shot in front of his eyes, causing his side to ache. Thick boots stomped into the room and Jack's heart fell. Neither Aster nor Toothiana were heavy steppers. Jack slid his legs up toward his chest defensively, ignoring the pain in his ankle and abdomen in immediate panic. One arm pawed around the other side of the bed for his staff until the intruder spoke.

"Vhy are curtains drawn shut?" A low voice boomed. "Is too dark. You'll go near blind, no?" The voice traveled to the foot of the bed and the sling of curtains was heard as more light flooded the room. Jack held in a yelp, uncertain of whom this man was and what he would think of the injured boy, not to mention this man's strange accent. Had this man found him and taken him somewhere? Would he never see Toothiana or Aster again? The thought was discomforting, to say the least.

As Jack blinked his eyes slowly, adjusting to the rapid influx of light, he took in the environment around him. The room was a small rectangle, with one window and one door. The walls were also made of the same nondescript metal. The curtains, it turned out, had been completely black. In actuality, it seemed to be around ten in the morning. Jack had gotten used to telling the time based on the sun in his three years of next to zero technology. The bed he was in was not a bed at all, but a cot with a small amount of padding beneath the blanket that had been tossed over Jack. The headboards were actually rails that were constructed around three of the four sides of the bed, save the side Jack had been rolling toward to reach the apples. There was also a fourth side of metallic rail, but it had swung down to allow for Jack's confusion. If it had been pulled up, he would have been fenced in, but without a ceiling of bars (which was a huge relief). The nightstand was a single filing cabinet with a padlock on it. His backpack and sweatshirt were on top. Jack instantly grabbed the sweatshirt only to find out that it smelled amazingly clean. Somebody had washed it. Checking to see if it was true, Jack realized that the bloodstain had been taken out. How had someone washed his clothes? There hadn't been electricity since a few days after the Outbreak breached the safe zones a little over two years ago.

Knowing his injuries would act up if he tried to dress himself, Jack set the sweatshirt over his staff beside him and looked up at the man who had entered the room. He was a tall, broad man with a tight red shirt and an impossibly long white beard, with shoulder-length white hair to match. This man was also muscular, but to a lesser extent than Aster had been. In addition, this man was rather... rotund. Jack would never say that to this man's face, however, because the tattoos that stamped his forearms were warning enough. Jack thought he caught the word "naughty" on one arm. The man's pants were pressed and clean, appearing dark brown to the still-blinded boy on the cot. His combat boots were tall and intimidating. Jack couldn't see the man's eyes, since the sun was directly behind him, but he could tell the man was looking at him. With what expression, Jack couldn't tell.

"How is dat? You are to be looking much better than few hours previous," the man continued as he took some steps forward. His tone was more... jolly than Jack had anticipated. On edge, Jack braced his screaming muscles to get ready to defend himself. But could he really injure such an incredible guy with merely his staff? Either way, Jack didn't care. If he went down, he was going to do so fighting.

The man must have noticed. "You need not to be scared, young Jack, the Scouts were very concerned about you and brought you 'ere," the man waved his arms widely. There seemed to be no small gestures with this guy. All of his movements were not fit for a room of this size. Jack doubted these movements were fit for a room of any size. Now that light was in the room, it was apparent to Jack that the room was spinning and his head was thoroughly under the weather. A moment later and it registered to Jack that the man knew his name. But the Scouts? What the hell were those?

"Too...thiana... and Aster?" Jack could barely form a cohesive sentence. Was the ability to see so persuasive that he couldn't perceive the true condition he was in when it was so dark?

"Perhaps you need more rest," the man concluded, beginning to turn away.

"Wait!" Jack instantly regretted shooting his hand toward the man. His bruises made themselves known to his consciousness and he reeled backwards in pain. "A-are Toothiana and Aster here?"

The man smiled. "I see you've gotten chance to know names. They are taking care of supplies and drawing maps, but you can join them soon, if you wish." He stroked his beard, waiting on Jack's response. It was like he was being analyzed, but not scrutinized.

Regardless, Jack almost didn't hear him because his hopes were lifted again. They had saved him! They had brought them to their camp after all! There were other humans! And they were talking to him! All of the internal excitement caused Jack's vision to blur momentarily. As it cleared, Jack looked at the man more closely. He saw that his eyes were in fact a deep and resounding blue. The kind of blue you see in the oceans of the tropical islands that the richer folks would visit on vacations. But it was also the kind of blue you see in a wintry sky, cold but vast and endless. He didn't look nearly as dangerous now, but the tattoos were still glaringly present. Jack gulped. "Where am I?"

"Oh!" The man palmed his face quite forcefully. No gesture too big. "Of course! Introductions are to be under ze way. I am Sergeant North, but North is just fine. I am retired. Aster is native to this land, but which tribe I never remember. Toothiana is our researcher and medic, if need should arise. However," the man named North pointed to Jack's ankle, "Sanderson is one who fixed your foot. He is clever with hospital equipment, no?"

Jack was dubious about the fact that a board of plywood and masking tape or gauze was considered hospital equipment. There hadn't been real hospital equipment in so long because they had been the first supplies rounded up and rationed and ultimately stolen. But what North said was true. It was helping and Jack thought that perhaps he could even walk with this brace. Of course, he didn't want to chance standing up and falling flat on his face before he took one step, so Jack remained stationary. But Jack realized suddenly that North had continued talking and he tried to tune in to the man's explanations.

"─secret bunker has been in place since World War II, and I had detailed, confidential plans. After military failed to stop Outbreak, I took liberty of said bunker and _viola!_ Here is my Workshop! Great name, no? Anyway, we take in as many people as can be afforded and offer them livable life. Is nothing too fancy, but is manageable."

Of course the military failed to stop the Outbreak. They failed to see that Jack had been human and were awful at sensing their surroundings. Soldiers were trained for people, not... those things. They could have waited until they all started dying and _then_ made the world safe by killing off the decrepit beings, but no. They didn't. Jack knew that they were just following orders, but surely common sense was a factor, right? However, Jack wasn't about to insult the military in front of an officer, retired or not. He still didn't have a solid clue about where he was, and he wasn't about to press for more information. It would make him seem weak. Since it was the first time in three years that he had been around other humans, he wanted to do this right. He wanted them to know that he was strong and that he didn't need to depend on them. Jack wasn't sure if he could ever fully trust anyone.

But Jack did need these people. He needed someone to care for him, and someone he could care for in return. Jack promised many things, and he wasn't about to go back on any of them. He had to live. Perhaps being with these people would be his way of surviving in this world. He had to know more.

On the other hand, getting any number of people to trust Jack was a slim chance at best in his mind. He'd killed. Sure, these people probably have, too. But did they kill their families? Did they kill their little sister to save her from her misery? That's what happened in the movies and, sure, it was sad, but Jack still couldn't get over the stark reality. He had killed. He could have been taken to prison, had circumstances been normal. But because circumstances weren't normal, did that mean killing at all was somewhat justified? Jack wanted to say that it depended on the situation, but there were so many gray areas that even the same situation could be taken in so many different directions. In the end, it mattered not only on one's choice but on others' reactions to those choices. The murky waters Jack had waded into were going to drown him if he didn't keep his conscience clear. However, Jack was afraid his first choice suffocated any other choices he could ever make. Still, he wanted to attempt some form of redemption before he ultimately returned to the dust of the earth.

"Can I see it?" Jack's eyes were filled with wonder.

North's eyes held a twinkle upon hearing the request. "But of course! Once you are rested," he added as a condition.

Jack insisted that he would be okay. "I have my staff as a crutch. I'll be fine!" He had to know what he was getting into, and if he could see Aster and Toothiana again in the process, all the better. He'd be sure of his decision when he saw the extent of where he was now living.

North admired the boy's spirit. "You want to see Workshop? Let us go, then! As long as staff is only used for crutch, I will allow it. Normally, weapons are to be stored away, _but_ I make exception. Come, come."

Jack braced himself and hauled himself out of the bed in one giant swing, simply to get the pain over with. It wasn't awful, but he could tell that North had seen his wince. Jack pulled on his newly clean sweatshirt, which smelled vaguely of lilac, and kept his staff by his side. Discretely peering inside his pack as North's back was turned, Jack saw that they hadn't taken his holster but stashed it inside his bag. Jack felt that must have been in violation as well, but didn't want to ask about it in case it was taken away. As he followed North, Jack had the sudden urge to knock the man out and make a run for it. Something stopped him. He didn't trust him, but North seemed to be at complete ease. It was unlike the nature of every human that was actually still alive, let alone a military officer.

Leaving the room, the pair entered a slim corridor, also encased in the same metal. There were no windows, and the overhead lamps swung freely on rusted chains. It wasn't necessarily dim, but it was the sort of light that made one feel like they were being interrogated. The smaller corridor led to a conjunction with a larger hallway, easily twice as wide. Without stopping, North turned left and continued onward. Jack took a moment to glance down the other side, noticing a dead end with a single door. He wanted to ask what was down there, and curiosity certainly wanted the better half of him to, but Jack held his silence. The lights didn't reach as far as the hallway went, and Jack wondered if he would get to look into it at some point. Creating a mental note, he turned away and jogged awkwardly to catch up to North. He walked at a brisk pace without wondering if Jack was still following. It was an uneasy sense of trust that North carried, and it made Jack warier.

The left side of the hallway that they traveled down eventually emptied out into a larger, more open area on the right. North stopped here and turned, already explaining the layout. "Ze right here we will get to, this here room on left," he patted a door with a small square window, "is my quarters. You will come here with questions concerning Workshop and to seek duties each week." Jack froze in shock. This guy was already talking to him like he lived here and was expecting him to work here as well? Jack's stomach staled, and the itching proposition to run fueled his veins. He still wasn't even sure where this place was, how far he had traveled to get here, or where Toothiana and Aster were. Even if he couldn't trust them either, Jack at least knew it was something like a checkpoint. Jack forced himself to take a deep breath and continue listening.

"As for this area, it is eating place, exercise place, very... recreational," the thick-accented voice searched for the appropriate terms in English. Jack wondered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, where this man originated. And did he mention which military? Was he even from the United States? Borders probably didn't matter anymore, but this man's background was of interest to Jack. "It is also trick. See how there are three doors branching off in back? All stay locked, but only one leads to barracks. Which do you think is correct?"

Jack took his time, trying to notice slight tricks. All of the doors looked the same, but in the tiny windows Jack could see faint impressions of the metal siding in two of the windows. In the third window, in the middle of the other two options, Jack definitely noticed stronger light. Jack furrowed his brows. "The middle one?"

"WRONG!" North's laughter was so loud that Jack swore every Unconsecrated within a twenty mile radius could hear him. Shortly after, he returned to a serious set of features and lectured Jack. "Right goes to all various supplies, laundry, and food; each sectioned and rationed. Middle actually leads to cave system where we get our water. I will explain more later. Left is barracks. All beds are military bunks, with around twenty total per section, there being four sections. None are private. I, of course, stay up here to guard ground floor. Others are designated similar rooms when on duty. You'll be assigned bed down in barracks when better. Perhaps you will rank with us soon. That includes myself, Aster, and Toothiana, as you already know. Sanderson usually stays with children, but due to shortage, he takes his turns. Then there is Phil, but he is mainly in charge of hunting. But, more on that later. Until all has been decided and you are well, you stay in health care area until Sanderson and Toothiana see that you are well." It was a lot to take in, and Jack was already forgetting which doors went where. Nonetheless, he patiently allowed North to tote him around. All of this was really to Jack's benefit, so it wasn't necessarily bad in the long run. If bad changed to worse, Jack could take advantage of them. Normally, Jack wasn't that type of person. But in this new world, Jack was unsure if he would really ever have the same morals as he believed he had.

"We will continue downward into mountain, but first let me show you fortifications." _Fortifications? Am I in a castle?_ Jack kept the bemusement to himself and let North guide him up a set of stairs next to the office door. They winded around like a castle, much to Jack's surprise. His ankle made climbing stairs nearly impossible, but he was determined to use as little help as possible. He had always been stubborn like that. North, of course, seemed to have completely forgotten that Jack didn't have full capabilities of both feet. Upon reaching a thick reinforced steel door, North unlocked several padlocks and heaved the door open.

"Is easier to open from outside for Watch purposes," North added, as if to ease any uncertainties, of which Jack had plenty, least of which had to do with this door, "but only if given code." Wow, the man kept some secrets. Jack was surprised, but said nothing. North sidestepped so that Jack could see out the door. "Ramparts look over inner courtyard of bunker, not easily seen from air nor land. Then beyond is cliff leading down towards rest of world. Not too worried about attack from dead here," North concluded as he began to shut the door again. Jack had little time to think about the ramifications of what he'd meant by that last statement before North had escaped his view once again.

The inner courtyards could only be reached by two doors: one going inside the bunker and one going out into reality. Here was where they planted gardens because it was guaranteed to be quiet and filled with sunlight. Special privilege only and it had to be silent. Very understandable, seeing as the valley that the bunker was nestled into echoed with the smallest of noises, reverberating through the trees and the ground and off the mountain peaks. The water for the gardens was carried up from the cave system by hand but also supplied through a small stream from the outside that flowed underneath the walls. Normally it was safe, North commented, but they had to check all water supplies for contamination every few hours. If any bad blood was mixed in with the water and got into their food supplies, they all risked infection to a certain degree. This was the first time that Jack had heard any details pertaining to the sickness that was responsible for the world's present state. There were specifics in how it was carried and how it infected? Movies either went too deep and became unrealistic or remained vague and extremely unhelpful. But this meant that there maybe could be something done to change the course of humanity. Needless to say, Jack was interested.

"What kind of risk?" Jack asked.

North thought about it for a moment. "You would ask Toothiana that one. As I mentioned, she is our researcher. She stores all information we have on Outbreak. Perhaps she will let you look. Once you get her going, she doesn't like to slow down," North chuckled as they moved back onto the main floor of the bunker and went into the middle door in the recreation area.

North opened the door and popped a lantern off of the wall and started descending. The floors became earth and the ceiling was much lower. North had to constantly duck so as not to bump his head and possibly risk collapsing the entire infrastructure. Jack stuck his staff into the ground and checked his splint. He knew North was only going downward and there couldn't be any other path otherwise without going back up. The splint was definitely dirty now, but it still held. The wooden piece chafed against Jack's inner ankle and the side of his foot, which itched excruciatingly. This tour was going to keep him bed for much longer if there were any more places to add to this bunker. Bracing himself, Jack leaned onto his staff for more support as he awkwardly tumbled down the tunnel after North. His voice rang throughout, making it all the easier to catch up to him without getting lost. "Most of bunker is under ze ground. So any point past recreation and storage is going to be earthen. Was not completely finished due to Second World War ending and all that."

After a few minutes, the small cave emptied out into a large underground cavern. Most of the floor was actually water instead of land. Steel footbridges stretched out over the waters with small docks attached in each pool. In total, there were two large pools, with sections drawn off with chalk on the sides of the rocks. They walked into the center were an artificial dam had been created to separate the pools.

"On that side," North waved his hand over one pool, "is West Aquifer. Is purified and used for drinking, cooking, and such. Feeds from spring farther under the earth. Here on this side is East Aquifer. Is used for bathing and cleaning of clothes, marked off like so," North pointed to the chalk marks, written in some language Jack didn't understand. That worried him. "But this Aquifer feeds from the outside, which is why we do not drink it, yes? This water is tested every few hours just like stream up on surface. The hole is mostly hidden," North took Jack's shoulders and squared him off to see a small speck of natural sunlight coming from the farthest end of the cave, "but that is where Scouts will go to personally check water as far as five miles out. Makes for ze getting out into fresh air and easing of tempers. Aster can especially vouch for it," North laughed. Jack wanted the man to let go of his shoulders. The touch of another human was still strange to him and it made Jack jump from its unexpectedness. This man was way too nice. Something had to give. And yet, Jack was not going to be the one to push the buttons. He would wait and see.

"There is much more to inner workings here," North was going through the last of the motions as they headed back toward the above-surface portion of the bunker, "but you need not to be knowing so much so soon." Wait, there was even more? Jack fought the urge to ask. His ankle hadn't taken kindly to the walk down to the Aquifers and he wasn't pleased about having to make the trip back up the tunnel. Even though it would appear weak to ask so, Jack desperately wanted to sit down and rest. But he couldn't. It was almost done and then he would get to see Toothiana and Aster. For only meeting them fleetingly, Jack really wanted to see them. He wanted to know more. Knowing more led to trust, right? Was that why North was telling him as much as he had? It made sense, but Jack remained cautious.

When they returned to the recreational area, North turned to the small boy. "You have been quiet. Do you have questions?" He raised an eyebrow and waited understandingly.

There was something odd... "Where is everyone?"

North sighed and put a hand behind his head, scratching nervously. "Remember how I said our goal was to rescue people? Well, we've taken to rescuing kids. They need childhood in order to survive in this world. That and humanity would die out otherwise. We keep them safe and teach them of what life was like and how to survive. Is our purpose. But..." North glanced toward the doors to the left, the ones that led to the barracks, "we have had fewer numbers in past months. Children grow restless and want to believe they are ready. They do not enjoy their childhood while they still have it.

"Anyway, Scouts and many of new ranks went out for raids, scouts, and hunts─" Jack had no idea what these terms meant, but he did not interrupt the man's story, "─and were attacked by horde. Not many survived."

Considering the place was empty and North refused to take Jack to the barracks, the boy could only assume that North, Toothiana, Aster, and Sanderson were the only people living in this bunker. It was terrible. Truly awful. But Jack had been away from human connection for so long that it seemed common place that the hordes would get their fills at some point. It was atrocious that it had come to them, but Jack was still reeling from his headache. And to add onto the injuries, Jack was also hung up on the purpose of this place: to give children their childhood. Jack's heart ached for his sister. He wished that she were alive, that the marks hadn't decided her fate, and that she could be here. But Jack had lived in this world, alone, for three years and knew that there was no way anyone could have any childhood. They were proposing a safe place. Jack nearly scoffed. They wouldn't want him here. He also had very little reason to stay here.

"Sgt. North!" A familiar voice bounded up to the pair. Jack turned around and saw the streamlined figure of Toothiana making her way to them from the barracks. She was still wearing the same clothes that Jack had seen her wear out there. They were still wildly inappropriate for many reasons, but Jack let it slide. The girl could fight, and she looked beautiful while doing it. Suddenly, Jack had a reason to stay. "What is Jack doing all the way out here? He's supposed to be resting! Sandy alerted me that he was missing and I came looking for you. Thank goodness you're both alright!" Jack assumed "Sandy" was, in fact, the Sanderson that North had kept talking about.

Her slight accent mixed with worry sounded like a sad song to Jack and he immediately felt guilty. "It was my idea. I wanted to see the place."

"Where is Aster?" North's entire body became straight-laced and he resembled an actual military man for once.

Toothiana had been looking at Jack, darting her eyes around his face but lingering at his mouth for some odd reason. Snapping out of it, she answered, "I believe he's checking the East Aquifer water line. He's not exactly cheery about the new addition, sir."

North waved it all away. "How many times must I tell you, Toothiana? You need not to be calling me Sergeant or sir. Is too formal. I am retired. As for Aster, make sure he takes rest. He has Watcher duty for first half of ze night."

Toothiana was about to say something when a knock was heard from the hallway where Jack and North had first come from. North and Toothiana both turned as if expecting this to happen. Jack spun around, eyes wide from the sudden noise. A short man─ very, very short, as Jack noted─ with golden blond hair walked up to them with an air of finesse about him. He had bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept in days, but appeared wide awake. He was wearing a simple pair of brown slacks and a yellow polo shirt, looking to be in his thirties or forties. He waved as he walked up into the circle of people. Already, Jack was starting to feel claustrophobic. The man began moving his hands and fingers in rhythmic motions, almost too quick for Jack to comprehend. The boy realized that this man must be deaf and wondered if he would have to learn sign language if he wanted to stay here any length of time. Being the only other human in this bunker that Jack hadn't yet met, he concluded that this was Sanderson.

"Ah, Sandy! Were you worried, dear friend?" North chuckled.

The man pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, clearly a little upset. He pointed to Jack and then flattened his left palm downward, patting the side of his wrist. His arms came up to his chest, parallel to each other, and one hand rested against the opposite cheek with the palm facing outward. Jack wasn't completely sure if this was sign language at all, or if the guy was actually deaf. He didn't seem to have a hearing aid and it looked like he understood North perfectly.

As if to answer one of his questions, Tooth explained the situation. "He said that you need to rest your ankle and that the splint needs to be checked. Are we done here, Sgt. North?"

North rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. You can take him back now. "

Jack guessed that he had no choice but to follow Tooth and Sanderson back to his room. Anything else that he wanted to know or do would have to wait until later. Besides, a rest sounded like a gift sent from the heavens.

If only the heavens had cared enough to let his sister live.

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**A/N: Okay, a lot of this was North talking and giving a tour. So sorry if I mess up the accent somewhere. I'm not trying to change every single possible letter to make it sound overly Russian and highly illegible, I'm just making it believable. His English isn't that twisted in the movie, at least not to my ears. **

**You'll learn more about Sandy and meet Baby Tooth in the next chapter (I think, I'd have to check the plot plans again). I promise this will get updated more frequently!**

**Oh, and I am a shameless self-promoter, so if you wanna read some HiJack [Hiccup (HTTYD1/2) x Jack Frost (RotG) go and check my profile! I just started a shorter series on it. Yeah, I know, that means I've got like, four ongoing stories all at once, but I can't help it! I come up with all of these ideas and I get carried away when I write something new. (If you're already reading _A Choice of Faults _and saw this same self-promotion, I'm sorry for bugging you with it again! I just want to branch out to my readers.)**

**Alright, I'll stop ranting and let you get on with your life. Good day/night! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

_**LONG TIME NO SEE!**_

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**A/N: Okay, so it's been **_**forever**_** since I've updated this story (or any story). I had so much writer's block from all the stories that I finally caved. And maybe died a little. And although it's been finished for awhile, I always let my readers know when I've put out new art pertaining to the fic. I finished (more or less; I might touch it up more later on) a drawing of Aster and posted it to DA, but there's a link on my profile as well. And if that doesn't work, I'm still Noon30ish on DA and you can look it all up there. I also have drawings of Tooth and Baby Tooth in case you need a refresher. I don't have a drawing of Sandy or Jack done yet, but they'll be coming soon. :)**

**I'm taking a break from one of my longer stories to revive this one (and another one) so hopefully updates will be more regular now. I'm sorry if it's a boring or relatively short chapter, but at least I came back, right?**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

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_Pretty Little Secrets_

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Jack left North outside of his office area to follow Toothiana and Sanderson─ Sandy, as they all called him─ back to the room he'd awoken in. The corridor was just as hollow and foreboding as before. The others didn't seem to mind, but Jack was still unnerved. How was it they weren't scared by _anything_ in this place? Sure, North seemed jolly enough, but the place exuded a far more... eerie atmosphere. Sanderson walked ahead of them, signing furiously over his shoulder to Toothiana. She swayed in her graceful walk, her sash and skirt flowing as effortlessly as her waist-length raven black hair. From what Jack could see walking behind them, she didn't fear a single detail of this place. Perhaps it came with time. Nevertheless, Jack paused in the moment before turning right down the smaller hallway. The darkened corner with the single door at the end still beckoned to him. He wanted to ask Toothiana about it, considering North had said that she liked to talk a lot, but he wasn't sure if Sanderson would appreciate the prying. As nice as the short man looked, Jack got this sense that he could put Jack into the ground quick.

Realizing they'd gotten to his door without him, Jack hobbled to catch up with his staff in tow. Tooth waved a hand to the bed and Jack didn't think twice before plopping down and nearly falling asleep on the spot.

"I wouldn't do that just yet," the violet-eyed beauty warned softly. "We still need to check your wounds. Shirt off, please," Toothiana motioned.

Jack sat up too quickly and winced, instantly catching his side and cursing himself for showing weakness again. Had she just asked him to take off his shirt? Unaccustomed to the attention, Jack shrunk back toward the wall. He stopped when he felt a hand on his bad ankle. Darting his eyes to the left, he saw Sanderson holding his injured leg over the side of the bed. The golden-haired man just smiled and held his hands out to show that he meant no harm. Jack relaxed his leg again so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt him, but he was still wary of Toothiana standing over him. Did this girl understand personal space? Toothiana was looking at him curiously and decided to try and help him. Jack glanced down to see that she was already trying to take off his sweatshirt. An instant later he realized she had been speaking the entire time.

"─ ankle is the main purpose but we've got to check your bruises because you might have broken a rib or two and I would feel _just awful_ if I─"

"I can do it!" Jack ripped the hem of his sweatshirt out of Toothiana's grasp and she stared blankly. Panicking, Jack muttered an apology as he pulled the garment off of his skin. His chest heaved with the effort and Jack knew there was going to be something wrong. "I'm just not used to people around me."

Toothiana tilted her head and softened her expression toward him. There was an unnatural air between them and Jack couldn't interpret it. Before all of this had started, before so many people had died, Jack would have known what to do in this situation. But this girl was being so difficult to read without even trying and it was borderline infuriating. At the same time, Jack was in awe─ she must have come from somewhere faraway. No one he'd ever known had had features like she did. Especially those frighteningly gorgeous purple eyes. She could either kill or smother affection with them. Right now, Jack couldn't be sure which she was intending. Without leaving his gaze, she took his sweatshirt and set it on the nightstand on top of his backpack. She hooked a small hand around his bicep and lifted it suddenly. Jack hissed from the sudden movement more than the actual pain and he tried to shrink away again. That was when he realized the gauze and plywood had come off of his ankle. Jack broke eye contact to glare at his foot in wonder.

When had Sanderson taken off the splint? Jack would have known if anyone had touched him, and yet this man had unwrapped an injured appendage without his knowledge. Jack was wide-eyed as he brought his foot closer to him. The feeling of dragging the skin across the sheets was alien and numbing. Jack slowly took his foot in his free hand and grimaced when he realized it hurt a lot more than he'd thought. Biting his tongue to focus the pain elsewhere, Jack traced and pressed on certain points to check where it was injured. Much to his chagrin, the center of his pain was right where it should never be. Jack's mind went into overdrive. If his ankle was more than sprained, if it was _broken_, there was no way it was going to get put back into place after being like this for so long. Or maybe Sanderson had already set it? But that didn't make sense unless Jack really had been out cold the entire time. Speaking of which...

Time to change the subject. "How long was I out?" Jack picked his foot up and carefully slid it back to Sanderson, who had already begun to prepare another dressing.

Toothiana, with her hand still holding his arm upward, was prodding his ribcage. She continued to do so as she answered Jack's question. "Only a day or two," she spoke calmly as she hit a sore nerve that caused Jack to yelp embarrassingly. An odd, heated sensation crossed his cheeks and it took him a moment to recognize that he was blushing. What the hell was that?

"Or two?" Jack caught the detail and narrowed his eyes. How could she not know how much time had passed? Sure, it was really dark in this bunker and there were very few windows and it was impossibly dreary, but there must be clocks somewhere! Jack tried to look around, but Toothiana's hand pulled hard on Jack's arm and he was stuck in place.

"We've all been pulling double duty since the last horde came through," she explained quietly. Sanderson didn't seem to hear her as he began to tape the bandages to Jack's skin. It wasn't until then that he realized Sanderson was almost done with his dressing. "It's hard to judge the time when you seem to have none of it," she offered soothingly, although Jack could tell that she was exhausted. Exactly how much work did North put them through regularly? Of course, it could be their lack of staff.

Jack recalled the solemn words North had said to him on the tour. The horde that had taken many of their numbers, or at least that's what Jack was left to insinuate. He knew exactly what hordes could do. One had swept around the walls of Burgess around the second year, a little after Jack had given up trying to get their help. It was a swirling, seemingly _alive_ mass of putrid animosity and grotesque animation. Limbs were hanging by bare ligaments, bones would glisten and shine against muddy, patchwork skin of blues and purples, and almost everything was bent at an awkward angle. But perhaps the worst had been their eyes. If their corpse was older than a few months, then the eyes still held their original color, although varying degrees of red or yellow rims could be seen. That was primarily how one could tell that they were infected. Or jaundiced. One or the other, really. But in this world, no one asked questions. They saw a hint, they shot. But with a horde, there seemed to be this unsettling sense of _this is never going to work we are all going to die there are too many and some are more alive than others and look there's my family..._

Jack felt the bile rise up in his throat at the thought of his family and his eyes closed under the strenuous effort to keep the memories at bay. Nevertheless, his mother's eyes─ the beautiful brown that he had inherited─ were still full of a life that wasn't hers. Once infection starts, the delirium takes its toll. After the first year of obsessing over his choices and their consequences, Jack learned to accept that a person was gone the moment the bite occurred. He held that belief less than steadfast, but it was all that he had. Jack's sister floated into his consciousness and Jack bit his tongue to keep his focus on Toothiana's assessment of his ribs and Sanderson's adjustments to his ankle. It didn't help that Jack's sister hadn't immediately fallen to the effects of the virus, but Jack had sensed her fever. That's what happened when people got infected in the movies, right? If they were strong, they could stave off the implications for hours. But although Jack believed his sister to be the strongest and the bravest, he had an inkling of doubt that she could have held onto her humanity in those twilight hours. And yet, if that were true, why hadn't she turned earlier? Her brown eyes had been closed in sleep, and Jack hadn't known what he knew currently. His mind swam with the automatic reassurance that he had done what he could for her, and that he had taken that knife from the kitchen to protect her from the horrors of the new world. It repeated itself until Jack was dizzy and about to heave.

It took the release of pressure from his arm and ribs to snap him back to the present. Jack instantly glanced down to see that Toothiana had let go of him, although his ribcage looked just as bruised as before. Perhaps more so, judging from the way that she had been prodding at him. Looking up, Jack saw that he and Toothiana were alone in the room. Sanderson was gone. Jack then took his ankle into both of his hands and looked it over. There was no longer plywood ensnared around his flesh, and for that he was eternally grateful. Instead, it was tightly bound with a clean set of gauze and cloth wrapped and clasped with two metal closures. Jack was thoroughly surprised─ how on earth did they get these types of supplies? They'd been gone within the first couple weeks.

The question seemed obvious in the room, and Toothiana answered his silence. "I brought them here when I joined. I was studying to become a doctor. Well, a dentist, but I took a bunch of medical courses as well so I had access to some of the stuff when it hit."

"So, you're in─ well, you used to be in─ college?" Jack's brown eyes saw the glint in her violet ones. "And doctor translated to... dual scalpels?"

Toothiana's brows were furrowed for a moment before she recognized that she was still wearing her weapons at her hips, barely visible beneath her thin skirts. Ordinarily, North had weapons stored unless someone was heading out on a raid, scout, or hunt. No one was allowed to have weapons in the Workshop, and for good reason. What reason that could have been, Jack could only guess.

Toothiana looked back to Jack and smiled. "They're dirks, actually. It's just a fancy name for longer daggers, shorter swords. And yeah, I was in my third year, but I was studying abroad─" but instead of continuing, the petite girl spread her lips in a thin line and nervously peered to the opposite side of the room away from Jack. At first, Jack thought she might have been embarrassed about revealing her age─ although Jack thought she had no worry about appearing old. If anything, she appeared a little younger than him. He wasn't going to ask, but he saw that she wasn't blushing and therefore probably not upset about her age. Then what was i─

Oh. Best not to push that subject further.

In that case, Jack decided to ask something else. "Then, how old _are_ you?"

Toothiana returned her attention to him and was relieved to answer his questions. "I'm twenty. But I don't look it, do I?" There was the blush. Her tanned skin yielded a darker pink tone across the highlights of her cheeks. Jack found it incredibly cute and, after not talking to another human being in three years, forgot that he had been staring.

Toothiana was about to break the moment when small, quick steps came pattering down the hallway toward the room. Without warning, a miniature replica of Toothiana came sprinting into the room and collided into Toothiana, hugging her and jumping up and down excitedly. Jack had to do a double take and rub his eyes because he felt truly disoriented at the sight. The smaller girl─ yes, _even smaller than Toothiana_─ had the same long jet black hair and similar dress as Toothiana. Although it was by no means appropriate for many standards, she still retained a sense of innocence. She had an identical yellow sash like Toothiana, but it was haphazardly thrown around her neck and one arm as if she'd rushed to get dressed. In all honesty, this girl looked like she was rushed in everything she did. She wore a loose, cropped blue shirt made with the same material as Toothiana's ethnic clothing but wore baggy green shorts instead.

But if Jack thought that made the girl stand out, he hadn't seen her eyes yet. She was talking a thousand miles a minute, glancing from Toothiana to Jack so fast that Jack was unsure it had actually happened. But he still saw it all the same. Her eyes were even rarer than the older girl beside him. One eye was purple, like Toothiana's, but the other was a crystalline blue that shone with unburdened mirth. It wasn't until she stopped talking that Jack realized she'd been targeting him.

"I'm sorry?" Jack blinked.

"Oh, this is the boy Aster and I found on our scouting mission yesterday. His name is Jack," Toothiana butt in to take some of the pressure off of Jack. The girl beamed at him with a toothy grin and she shot her hand out way too eagerly, a faint color spreading on her cheeks, but much unlike Toothiana's blush. This blush was more out of childish excitement than anything. Jack stared dumbly─ so many more people were hard to comprehend. But this girl looked so young. Was she one of the few that survived the attack? Was she there for the attack? She didn't appear to be hollowed out with fatigue or shell-shocked in the least. Were there other kids? The idea that there were more kids both relieved and worried Jack. Could he face human children and not see his sister at every single turn? Even now, this little girl─ though bearing no resemblance─ was sending shivers down Jack's already cold spine.

When he still hadn't answered, the girl decided to speak again. "Hi, Jack. You're a little weird. You don't talk much, do you? Did Toothiana already look at your teeth? I'm sure she has. She probably did it while you were asleep. She can't just _not _look at someone's teeth. No wonder she chose to be a dentist. It's kinda cool, though. She knows _soooooo_ much and she's really smart and I wanna be just like her! So, do you have nice teeth? Lemme see!"

The girl launched herself toward Jack and he was about to let instinct take over and grab his staff when Toothiana shoved the girl back hastily. Jack remained, muscles taut and eyes wide in primal fear, with his back to the wall and his limbs pulled up defensively. Toothiana shot an apologetic and─ was that pity? ─ put her hands on the girl's shoulders. She began talking rapid fire in a tongue that Jack didn't recognized. In his mini-frenzy, Jack was worried that his mind was somehow infected and that he was slowly losing the capability to function. It took a moment, but when it finally clicked, Jack still was unsure of the language she was using. The little girl seemed to understand however, and eased her excited tremors with some resignation. Her eyes were expressive as she took in more of Toothiana's words. The girl turned to Jack and immediately cast her eyes downwards, muttering something. Jack stayed stock still until she repeated her words and it was then that he registered that she was apologizing. The frightened boy lessened his grip on the bed sheets and the staff, reeling from the rapid, stressful mood swings he had had to endure for the past hour or two.

Sensing his distress, Toothiana aided once again. "Jack," she started slowly, softly, "this is my sister, Brianna. She can be a little─ well─ much to handle. Sorry she ran in so suddenly and spooked you. You _are_ sorry, right?" Toothiana raised an eyebrow to her younger counterpart.

The little girl named Brianna nodded. "But you can call me Bri, Jack. Sorry I nearly jumped on you," she repeated her apology and reached her hand out once again.

Jack stared at her blankly, but at least he had relaxed. This little girl was _nothing_ like his sister. Absolutely _nothing_ and he shouldn't feel _any_ connection to her or to any other person in this place. But the smallest of sparks lit up the back of his mind and these two siblings in front of him were showing him the world. Bleak as it may be, there was still some color to stand out amongst the gray. But was that small bit of color worth not being colorblind? Was it worth going through the dense foliage of grays and fog just to find that little something? Jack wasn't even sure if it was a true pull or if he was just unaccustomed to not being invisible. "It's... it's fine," Jack stuttered at last.

Toothiana appeared to sigh in relief as she whispered a thank-you toward Jack and ordered her sister to go back to the barracks; something about she was leaving her post. Did this little girl have a position of power in this place? The idea was insane to Jack. Things must certainly have taken a turn for the worst if they're recruiting little girls to help. Weren't they supposed to be _preserving_ childhood? Why would this little girl be different, other than been Toothiana's sister?

"Actually," Bri spoke up and looked pleadingly to Jack, "would it be okay if I kept you company? The kids are okay for now and Pippa has everything under control. Please? Just for a little while?"

Toothiana was about to object. "I don't know if that's─"

"She can stay," Jack's words surprised himself more than anyone else in the room, and that was saying something. Toothiana was dubious but she didn't say anything for a moment. Then, some telling sign shone in her eyes and she lit up.

"You heard him, Baby Tooth," she clapped her sister on the back, "you have to watch over him while I go find Aster and set up our trails for the next mission. If he does anything suspicious, you make sure to come find me," Toothiana then winked and waved goodbye as she walked out of the room. A terrifying moment for Jack later and she reappeared. "I was joking, Jack. Just send her away if you get overwhelmed. She knows better. Now, Bri: don't disgrace the uniform!" Her voice chimed and echoed down the hallway as she left the room. It made Jack smile absently. Their sense of uniform was much more lax than North would have made it seem. Even Sanderson had had a sense of uniform, although it was casual in nature. Of course, Toothiana and Bri offset the uniform-mindset in a balanced way. And from what Jack remembered of his only encounter with the other member, Aster, he had no uniform to speak of. North had said that he was a native person, and what Jack had seen agreed with that.

But Bri had mentioned another person. Well, and other kids. Were there actually some survivors? Jack had no idea of knowing since there were no details on the original attack. But there was also something about a... a Pippa? It was an odd name, sure, but so was Toothiana. Jack wondered if any of these people were actually citizens of the old country. North had an accent, Toothiana and Bri spoke another language, and Aster was a wild native (because surely most native people at least wore modern clothing, right?). Jack had no way of knowing anything about Sanderson, since the guy didn't talk, but he had a guess that the man was probably from elsewhere as well. How the hell did these people all come together to an abandoned World War II bunker? And why did they all have weird eyes? It was a silly detail, but Jack couldn't help in mulling it over in silence.

The silence itself was a surprising blessing. Brianna, though exuberant and chatty just moments ago, had resigned to sitting up on the bed a respectable distance form Jack. She crossed her legs at the ankles and twiddled her thumbs, as if she were content to sit and stare at nothing with him. The girl didn't even make a sound, apart from her small, deep breaths. Jack was pleasantly grateful until he looked down and saw his pale and bruised skin staring back at him. Damn, Toothiana really could kick hard, couldn't she? As if in answer, Bri had crawled across the bed to the table and picked up Jack's sweatshirt. Bri's hand was held in front of his face and his eyes focused on the article of clothing as he took it thankfully. He could have easily reached for it himself because he was closer, but Bri was at least being considerate. She smiled warmly at Jack and sat back in her place, resuming her fidgeting. It wasn't annoying at all, but it was a small quirk about her. Jack wondered─ not for the first time─ if Toothiana was at all similar to this girl beside him. The quiet companionship that Bri offered was something that Jack needed, and perhaps that was why he had allowed her to stay. Toothiana's company would have been equally as nice, but Jack knew that she had work to be done.

The light pooling into the room from the window shifted suddenly and the colors changed. The yellows became bright oranges and purples that splayed across the boring concrete walls. It was the first time Jack realized he could look out over the grounds and get a sense of where he was. Instead of standing up and walking over to the window─ he didn't trust his ankle yet─ Jack angled his neck upward and peered outside. Just above the window sill, splotches and scratches of bare trees were visible, tickling the borders of his limited vision. They were far, far below and he was way, way up here. It felt ethereal, in a sense, despite the very human concrete surrounding him on all sides. The closer to the heavens he believed that he was, Jack sensed something nearest to closure than he'd had in awhile. If his sister was watching him from some afterlife, he prayed that she would talk to him. For Jack was lost and he didn't know what to do. This new place was foreboding and eerie, but it was also the closest to home than he'd had since before the world changed.

Except the world didn't change. Only Jack's and every other human's perceptions of the world changed. The natural state of the world itself, although momentarily diseased, was left relatively undisturbed. The Unconsecrated did not prey on animals, eat plants, nor did they cut down the trees and burn the oils of the earth. In a steep pit of realization, Jack wondered if the dead were truly such a disaster as humanity made it out to be. Were they really so separate from the earth that it was thought a cure to cut back on the very existence of humans? And yet, how were humans so different from these animals? The paradox made Jack's brain ache and he leaned his head onto one palm, still staring out the window in a mix of contentment and perplexity. The inner workings of the paradox worked like slow-turning cogs in some ancient machine for the good part of who knows how long before a distinct voice halted its progress.

"Did you like the apples?"

Jack finally glanced at the girl sitting beside him. It took him a moment, but he was able to answer her this time on his own. "I did."

"Toothiana said that she'd seen you trying to reach for them over a pit of a thousand dead walkers!" Bri's face was lit with utter amazement, although Jack wasn't sure if she actually believed such a ridiculous story. He figured Toothiana had exaggerated it to get a kick out of the little girl. Or maybe...

"I don't know if it was really that─"

"Well, I _know_ it didn't really happen like that, but Toothiana loves to get into the tiny details and explodes them out of proportion so that when she writes them down in the archives she'll remember the parts that really matter. It's a little weird, but that's how she's studied. I should know; I helped from time to time. I might even know more than she does!" Bri seemed to either talk very little or a whole lot. "Anyway, she said she picked the apples for you. Well, she didn't say it directly, but I know her better than anyone. She must've spent half the scouting mission on picking the best ones! Of course, I can see why. You're cute and she probably likes you or something. That's the one part of my sister I don't understand, since there are bigger things to be concerned about, but─"

Jack was trying so hard to pay attention to every word that the little girl─ was she actually little? Toothiana seemed little and she was older than Jack. Either way, the slight accent was making it difficult to comprehend her. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be ignorant, but... where are you and your sister from?"

Bri was cut off and she stared at Jack as if he had three heads. Her eyes dulled and it seemed like she had become an empty shell, void of emotions. "We're not allowed to talk about that."

We? We as in Toothiana and Brianna? For some reason, Jack thought she was talking about more than just her sister and self. "Oh─ oh, sorry. I─"

"No."

Brianna abruptly stood up and left the room, leaving Jack all alone once again.

* * *

**A/N: Well! What was that all about? Also, I got Baby Tooth's human name, Brianna, by combining "Toothiana" with "Baby Tooth" and adding an r, basically. Do you like it?**

**Also, there has been a distinct lack of zombies and Aster. Hmm... I think I can remedy that. ;) Next chapter shouldn't take two months this time!**

**Have a great day/night! :)**


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